


Little Piles of Leaves

by HeroMaggie



Series: Anders Needs Hugs [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders needs hugs!, Comfort, Hawke is hell on furniture, Hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:23:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke and Anders talk after the entire Karl fiasco. Hugs abound!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Piles of Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> I am seriously getting attached to this portrayal of Hawke and Anders. This is morphing past simple one-shot stories and into something more, I think.

Darktown, thought Hawke, smelled like a cross between mabari breath and the inside of her brother’s armor. And she really only knew how that smelled because Carver had a terrible habit of stripping out of his armor and leaving it in a pile in the middle of their shared room for Dodger, her mabari, to find and roll on. She was paying attention to the smells of Darktown because her only other option was to pay attention to the man striding in front of her. So it was mabari armor stench or the deep worry that she had somehow managed to find the only abomination in Kirkwall that had enough humanity left in him to be a healer.

Though, her brain pointed out between noting how the smells cleared up as they neared the clinic doors and how his bum looked under that rather silly coat, abominations were supposedly more lumpy and perhaps had oozing wounds or had only one eye or a third arm. She had never seen one but she had heard rumors. The man now currently wrestling with the clinic door did not appear lumpy, oozy or possessing more limbs than strictly necessary. He did have nice eyes, she thought. And his smile was rather attractive, well, he was rather attractive. Not that she had noticed of course. No, not noticed at all. 

The door gave with a shrill squawk and then he was moving into the clinic. Hawke scratched at her chin and pondered the opening. “Carver, Aveline, Varric? You guys stay out here, ok? I need two moments with the healer.”

There was a general clamor of discontent at that statement. Aveline was going on and on and ON about how he seemed to be a possessed apostate and that was terribly illegal. Carver was joining in with Aveline and adding to it with his big, lummox-y worries about how this would bring down the templars and ruin his life. Varric just wanted to know what the hell was going on. Huh, thought her brain as the argument washed over her, even the ceiling had mold and litter on it. And was that writing? Eyes squinting, brain firmly ignoring her companions’ moanings, Hawke focused on the tiny letters some adventurous soul had placed on the ceiling of Darktown.

 _WEEBLE WAZ HERE_

“I said to stay here. Shut up, Carver. Nobody cares about your need for a love life. Aveline, we are not turning in the healer. I’d have to turn myself in. Varric, I’ll tell you all about it if you buy me a pint.” The group didn’t let up. With one last look at the mysterious statement on the ceiling, and a deep wonder at what a “weeble” was, Hawke marched through the clinic door and muscled it closed behind her with a loud BANG. The healer, Anders, jumped at the noise and she shrugged in apology. Striding over to one of the very sad looking tables, she manhandled it in front of the door, wedging it closed.

“There. Andraste’s knickers, they are all out there yelling. I’m sure that’s exactly what you need right now. I love Aveline like a sister but she gets her smalls all twisted when she’s forced to do anything that goes against that brick of a book about Kirkwall Law. My brother is just a tit. He has no excuse. He’s just a big, floppy boob.” She waved her hands in a vaguely flopping motion and frowned.

Anders watched her with wide eyes. “And the dwarf?”

“An unrepentant snoop.” Hawke smoothed down her robe and then moved into the clinic. “So, want to tell me about it? I’m sure there’s a good explanation for all the screaming and the fire and the bright blue…whatever.” Now her hands flapped around Anders as if trying to encompass the entirety of what she was asking about.

“I’m not an abomination, if that’s what has you worried.” Anders moved to a table to fuss with some vials, his back to her. “I have some, err, special circumstances.”

“Hmm.” Was all Hawke could think to say. She moved over to the nervous man, eyes on the assortment of herbs left in a pile. Nabbing a handful, she began to strip them of leaves and petals. “I’d say you have some pretty special somethings going on. You can tell me. I won’t judge. I can’t promise to not laugh or make jokes, however. Social situations and I aren’t best buddies.”

Eyes on her hands, Anders leaned against the table. “Back when I was in the Wardens, I met a Spirit of Justice who got trapped here. He needed a host, his was falling apart. Literally. I offered to help. This is the result.” One of his fingers prodded the pile of herbs. “I thought I was helping a friend, giving him a chance at life. But my anger, well. I guess it twisted what he was. Now he’s more vengeance than justice.”

Eyes on her working fingers, Hawke thought over what had just been shared. “So, is he separate in there? A head-buddy?”

Anders’ head shook. “We are entwined. One.”

Sighing, she rubbed a hand over her face. “Alright. Just so we are clear. This isn’t some crazy demon possession. Right?” She watched Anders nod. “What a day.” 

“I’m sorry.” Anders shuffled a bit, eyes clouding.

“For? You’re the one who lost somebody. I know how that feels. So does Aveline. She had to put her own husband to the sword because of the Blight. I’m…sorry Anders. Sorry we couldn’t save Karl.”

The look on Anders’ face was a knife in Hawke’s heart. Eyes filling with tears, the blonde mage shuffled again and tried to not sniffle. “Thanks.”

Reacting to his sadness and ignoring better judgment, social rules, and causing the herb leaves to waft through the air in a cloud, Hawke threw her arms around Anders and pulled him into a tight hug. It was so unexpected that Anders simply stood there in shock as the leaves settled around them and her arms enfolded him and pulled him close. It had been a long time since anybody had physically comforted him and for a moment, he was at a loss at what to do. Hawke, it seemed, had no respect for personal space and seemed determined to hug the pain and loss out of the tall mage. He let out a squeak as she tightened her arms more. 

They stood like that for a few minutes, Anders’ hands gently patting at Hawke as she squeezed him tightly. Finally, she released him. Face red and radiating desperate embarrassment, Hawke wrung her hands slightly. “So, ah, I hope you realize that I don’t judge you for your decision. With Justice. And I think it was very sweet of you to help a friend. And it’s too bad…much too bad…that it didn’t work out. But hey, at least he got such an attractive body to share. And Dear Maker, I’m sorry.” Eyes wide, Hawke waved her hands at Anders and backed toward the door. 

“It’s ok. Thank you?” Anders watched Hawke turn five shades of crimson. For a moment, they both stood in the clinic and simply listened to the silence chirp and hum with unspoken tension. 

“Sorry, I realized halfway through the hug that I just kinda…didn’t ask. And I made a mess with the herbs. And when I get upset, I babble. Or when I physically assault handsome men.” Hawke stopped speaking for a moment and shook her head. “It’s so much easier when they act like Carver.”

“The tit.” Anders’ smile blossomed. For a moment, Hawke simply gawked at the smile and then nodded. Anders chuckled and shook his head. “My maps are yours. As am I, should you ever need me.”

Hawke swallowed, choking when her tongue tried to strangle her. “I’ll. Um. Thanks! Ok. I should go straighten out the group before they figure out the door swings out as well as in.” She waved and gave the table in front of the door a mighty shove, causing it to shake and then collapse. With a deep sigh of annoyance, a quick “I’ll be back to fix that later,” and another wave, she stomped out the doors.

Anders stood in his now empty clinic, lips twitching slightly as he fought back another smile at the loud “I said shut up!” he heard from the area outside of his doors. He could still feel the tight hug Hawke had bestowed on him, her body’s warmth curling through him. His eyes fell to the table and what remained of the little pile of leaves and petals she had stripped from the herbs. Another smile and he settled down to make potions, the feeling of warmth staying with him as the sun rose.


End file.
